Finding Fiesel
by Ivory Child
Summary: After being left by her foster parents, attacked at school, and finally abducted on the interstate, All Fiesel Wilson wants is to be with Bridger again. Will Bridger be able to follow Fiesel's trail and find a way to save her from her kidnappers?
1. Foster Child

**Author's Note: **The story will be told in many different points of view. Look under the chapter name to find out who is "telling" the story in a chapter. If no name is listed, is it in 3rd person.

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**Finding Fiesel **

_The Foster Child_

_-Fiesel-_

"Get out of here you dirty rotten runt!" Gayle shouted and she shoved me right out the front door of the house and into the mild rain storm. My foster mother didn't like me to say the very least. To be honest, nobody did. I was nothing but a lonely, parentless, girl who couldn't take care of herself. The dark haired, dark eyed girl who bad luck was attracted to. The girl that didn't know happiness for the longest time, until she was 10 years old.

Gayle was my foster mother, or rather, my slave driver. She didn't like me and I didn't like her. All she did every day was sit on the couch, eat half of her own weight in nacho cheese, and watch the Price is Right for hours upon hours. After being fired from 6 jobs in the same year for laziness, lack of work ethic, and showing up to work drunk too many times, she called it quits. After her most recent job, the cash clerk at Howard Johnson's, she finally gave up all hope of a career and decided to take it upon herself to make my life as absolutely awful as possible. As if being a foster child wasn't bad enough, right? Truthfully, I don't know why Gayle is in the position she is in right now. She knows as well as I do that she could have a great career right now. After all, she graduated as the Salutatorian of her class in high school in 81. She was offered many scholarships to several great colleges, but I after she had her heart broken a boy named Greg, she refused to do anything good with her life anymore.

I pounded my cold, wet fists on the smooth surface of the wooded and trimmed front door. Nobody opened it to let me in. Finally, I kicked the door in frustration and gave up. I stood in the rain and thunder on the ground wearing my skin tight shorts, two- sizes-too-small T-shirt, and torn-apart sandals. I was at about this point I was starting to see how poorly I was being treated with these people. Knowing that I wouldn't get back in the house for now, I started walking down the street, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth, and more importantly, for comfort.

Gayle's husband, Ray, was just about the identical, but male, version herself: Lazy, uncaring, but actually not as mean. Born in Mexico and raised legally in East LA, this guy wasn't exactly the best person to become friends with. He didn't exactly treat me splendidly, but he didn't act as though I was a useless waste of time, as did Gayle. He just didn't want anything to do with me. Ray was a terribly bad smoker and even worse drinker. Every night he could be found at the bar, passed out on the bar stools. It amazes me that this man, this disgusting and very unappealing man, could keep his job as a stock-broker. He must've been doing something right, I suppose.

As for myself, I'm Fiesel Wilson, but with these people, my foster parents, I was Fiesel Rodriguez, and I didn't like it. Although I didn't live with my birth parents anymore, I still lived in my birth town; A hustle-bustle Florida city on the coast. I had never moved out of this town, which I am thankful for because I do really love the city itself. It carries some of my fondest memories of my life, and trust me, there aren't many.

I turned back to see how far away I was from my not-so-humble abode. To my dismay, it was still in clean sight. The little ugly yellow house with most of the paint chipped off in places. It was the only house in the neighborhood that really brought everything down. Not because it was smaller than the rest, just because it was so atrocious. I continued my walk to get away from that place. I didn't know where to go, but I would find somewhere to keep me busy. I continued down the street trying to force my hand into my pockets that were a little bit too small for them to fit into. I was actually kind of surprised that my hands didn't fit into my pockets, however. It is possible that the wetness from the rain could've made a difference, but hopefully not. At my age, I was underweight, shorter than average, and was the only fourth grader who could pass for a first. Maybe I was growing! I sure hoped so.

I passed my school while on route to the park. "Meadowlark Elementary School" was in big bronze letters above the door way inside. While most of my classmates weren't fond of school, I would pick school over home any day. At school you have peers, fun, and you can learn. At my home I don't have any of that. Although my school was the smallest elementary school in the school district, it was probably one of the nicest. It had good teachers and a good curriculum. I liked it. I didn't have tons and tons of friends at this school, but I had one very good one: Jorrie McDowell. Jorrie was a girl my age but was in a grade above me. She was very understanding and very kind to me and most importantly she was the only person at school who knew how much I disliked the situation I was in. Around other people I tried to avoid talking about home life, but I was okay with it when talking to Jorrie. Although Jorrie had never seen the inside of my home, I had seen hers. With her doctor parents and wealthy uncle, she was living the rich life, but she was never stuck up about it or arrogant to others. She treated everybody with the same respect that she treated her parents with. How I wish I could say the same about myself. I was worried about next year because I would be in 5th grade, but Jorrie would move on to middle school and I wouldn't have my closest friend near by. Well, at least it would only be for one year, right?

After another several minutes of trying to dodge rain drops from making contact with my deep freeze cold skin, I finally decided to seek shelter under an awning near Emerson Park. While there, I stumbled upon a man, an elderly man. He had no hair, and wore some funny looking glasses. He sat quietly on a red wooden bench, smoking his cigar. When at last he noticed me standing in front of him, he sheathed his smoking tools immediately and addressed me. "Shouldn't you be in school, kid?" He asked in a friend and warming voice.

I smiled. "No, it's spring break," I replied. The elderly man stopped and thought for a moment.

"Well I tell you, I remember spring break well. Twas the best time of the year for me." I had seen this man here at the park many times before, but never before has he addressed me or have I ever a had a reason to address me. Honestly, it was kind of awkward for me, but I did my best to just get around that. He coughed and old smokers cough, which sounded very similar to Ray's and stood up. He began to leave when we walked up to me and handed me a brown wooly object. "It looks like you need this a bit more than I do," he said as he put it in my hands and walked off to a car parked on the side of the road. I gently unfolded the wooly blob he gave me, and soon discovered it was a sweater with the words "Hamitok Lake" stitched on the front in bright blue letters.. It was far too big for me, but without any duo, I thanked him sincerely and put it on, wrapping it around myself several times to get the most warmth I could. I took another look at the man, probably in his late 70's. For the first time in a while, I was smiling naturally. Knowing that somebody was there for me, for just this one moment, really made my day better. I smiled and looked into the grey sky and then when I looked down, I lost my happiness as quickly as it came. I saw his cigar ashes lying on the ground. Seeing those there made me think of my father, who died from lung cancer.

Although I vaguely remember him and I only have one picture to remember him by, Ray tells me that my dad, my biological dad and his cousin, was a great man. He did all sorts or things and helped all sorts of people. He worked as an actor for plays, musicals, and was trying to work his way into New York. Obviously, this didn't happen. Nobody knows how far he could've gone, but just by asking around about Derek Wilson, somebody was bound to know who you were talking about.

I got up from the red rigged old bench and walked some more once I noticed that the rain was appearing calmer. I went over to the colorful playground that was actually made for small children and toddlers, but still provided me with most of my entertainment that I couldn't get by staying with Gayle and Ray. I was still small enough for most of the things the playground had. Some of my happiest memories were on this blue and green playground. Although I never played with anybody, it was still fun for me. Most of the only fun I could ever find. Quite often, I would climb up the slide and sit at the top of it and just look around at the peaceful park. I was slowly starting to outgrow it, which kind of made me happy to know that I am closer to leaving Gayle behind.

I couldn't swing anymore, because all the swings were infant swings, which I knew perfectly well I could fit into, but because of social embarrassment I never swung on them, except on the rare occasions when I really wanted to swing. I couldn't use the monkey bars because my feet would now touch the ground, which surprised me because I'm only somewhere in the 4 foot area. I would use the teeter-totter, but I didn't have anybody to go with, so most of the time, I just stuck to the slide.

I glanced over through the mild rain and looked at the park, the massive park that was as big as my whole neighborhood. I looked at all the trees, and never before had I noticed how all the trees came together, almost as if like a miniscule forest. I looked at it some more and also spotted, for the first time, a path that led into this mess of tress, shrubs, and bushes. I quickly slid down the slide, ran passed the swings, jumped over a small ditch, and found myself standing in front of this darkened path. I was strongly drawn to this place. Just standing near it, I could feel the majestic mystique the forest presented.

I slowly trotted down the dirt path into more and more trees and bushes. I used my forearm to shove away the branches that seemed to pop out of nowhere or hit me. I went farther and farther in until no longer could I even see the entrance from which I came in. I stopped for a moment to listen. Very near by, I could hear the gentle babble of water flowing. The birds that raced through the sky could be heard high in the treetops. All sorts of things in this place which I never had seen before was there. The dirt path ended as I entered a quite place.

This place was beautiful and great. There were all sorts of flowers blooming in all sorts of places. Blue Bells, Amaryllis and many more that I didn't know. I looked upward at the high canopy of trees above me. In only few place I could see the small beams of sunlight piercing the tops of the trees and illuminating the Earth, almost as if highlighting it. I could also hear the river more distinctly now. I followed the sound it was making and within no time at all, found myself standing over a large river at the very side of the small forest. From here I could see outside the tress and I realized that I was incredibly close to the interstate. I looked around outside to see if I knew where I was. I recognized the gas station near the highway and I knew where it was. I took a minute to think and finally realized that I was really far away from home. And I liked it.

I ventured back in to the natural sanctuary. I found a part of the river that leaked and flowed through the trees and decided to follow it. This part of the river was tiny, and could almost be looked at as a long puddle. I walked along it until I came to a small stone bridge that led across it and a bigger ditch. Carefully walking over the bridge, I could almost see shapes on the bushes. When I got closer, All emotion escaped me and familiarity took its place.

At this dead end, there were bushes aligned with berried on them that seemed almost like cherries. I remember distinctly one picture from my family photo album that was always my favorite. The picture was of me as a baby and my mother sitting on a tree stump feeding me these berry-like things. My face was rosy cheek-to-cheek red, and written on the picture in black sharpie letters was written "Sugarblush".

I looked at the ground and saw a single stump. I again saw the berried on the bushes. Was this where I had my "sugarblush"? Was this the place from my picture? I was too curious to find out. There was a way to see, but I wasn't sure it would work. I gingerly reached my hand out to the bush and picked off one of the berries on it. For fear of poisonous berries, I was hesitant on putting it in my mouth; however, I knew that this was the place from the picture. I decided I might as well try it out. I put the berry in my mouth and flavor exploded inside. A very sweet, natural flavor.

The berry tasted so incredibly sweet, it filled me up with perkiness. The sweetest thing I had ever taster now seemed bitter. The most joyful memory I had now seemed dreary. Everything seemed better, now that I was happier. Although I could not tell for sure, I'm sure my cheeks turned red just like they did before. Now I knew why it was called a "sugarblush I picked some more of this cheery like berried and put them in my tiny pockets for later. This was all great until reality set back in.

I started to think of my mother again. Then that reminded me of my dad. I tried not to think about them, but the more I tried to forget about them, the harder the thoughts and memories returned. I wanted to leave. I worked my way out of the thicket of trees and slowly found myself back at Emerson park. I looked back at the darkened path, knowing that I would come back here again in the near future. I would come back a lot.

I went in the direction of my house now, now that quite a long time had passed up. I couldn't get my mind off of so many things: How my parents were both dead, how my foster parents were horrible, and how much I was beginning to hate my life. I wish something would make it better. No, I wish someone would make it better. I need somebody, but I just don't know who.


	2. Forgotten or Abandoned

**Finding Fiesel**

_Forgotten or Abandoned_

_-Fiesel-_

I took a seat on the dewy grass next to Jorrie who was calmly eating her lunch. Spring Break was long sense over and I hadn't yet returned to the Sugar Blush. I tried not to think about it, and I really just wasn't comfortable going back yet. I hadn't told Jorrie about me discovery either because I knew if I did, she would want me to take her there: Something I didn't want to do.

I looked at Jorrie with her long, straight amber hair. Her shiny metallic emerald eyes glistened in the mid-spring sunshine. Her upper-class European silk clothes augmented her appearance. Jorrie seemed so perfect to me. Why couldn't I be like her? How I envy her so. Jorrie looked up at me when I sat down.

"Hi, Fiesel!" She said warming, "How was your break?".

I shrugged my shoulders. "Average, kinda boring," I said, "Just like a really long weekend". She smiled.

"Well that's good, I guess," she replied. I looked at her neck: She was wearing the necklace I had given her a couple years. That was one of things I loved about Jorrie more than anything: She cared about me. I gave that necklace to her on one of her birthdays and she said she hadn't taken it off sense, although I somewhat doubt that. It had a cross embedded with purple amethyst gems around its edges. She always seemed to be wearing it, at least around me.

Honestly, behind all of Jorrie's goodness, I couldn't stop thinking that maybe Jorrie didn't _really_ care about me. Maybe she was just another person throwing scraps of pity for me a cling on to. Although I had my doubts about her sometimes, I tried to think about her in the very best way, which most of the time she pulled through to be. Not to long after I had sat down, the recess bell rang, informing us that it was time to return to class.

The duration of school was dull, monotonous, and all together annoying. After countless circles and the gym and some not-so-fun painting in art, it was about time to go home. I was getting my books put away when I noticed _that_ boy walking past the window. Cameron Menzel; the boy that Jorrie told me she liked. I looked him closely, noting his every detail, almost has if inspecting for good enough Jorrie-quality. I didn't see what was so special about him. She told me that he was magnificent, so I believed her. But to this day I still don't understand why some girls go so gaa-gaa over boys.

Just as another day had past, school was over before I took a second blink or thought about it. I had my stuff and was getting ready to walk home; the thing I hated most about every day of school. To get home, I had to go to St. Peter's Street. To get there I had to go past every one of my peers. Most of them had nothing against me at all, but a lot of them took pleasure out of making fun of my size, my cloths, and above all, my name.

I quickly sped through the over-bustled mass of kids trying to fight there way to the buses to be sure and get the back seat. While and navigated through the crop of kids, like every other day of my life, I got remarks from all directions. More horrific names kept pouring through the lines of bodies, entering my ears. As always the most common one I heard was "Feeble Fiesel!" Oh how I wish I could find out who started that name for me. I would despise them forever.

"Feeble Fiesel" was something I had been called for a little over a year now. Obviously a slam toward my name and size, everybody in my grade knew who it referred to, and about half of the kids in my grade called me by it. Of course, after consulting the teacher about it, she tried to insist to me that what they were calling me was a joke and all in plain fun. I wasn't even going to try the principal, and Gayle was hopeless.

Through bodies and backpacks I shoved until I had surpassed the buses. I looked back to wave bye to Jorrie, as I always do. She got on the closest bus to me; bus #22. I looked to find Jorrie, just underneath the rest of her classmates. I waved goodbye and went on my way.

Jorrie, like myself, is rather small for her age. I don't think her condition is as obvious and severe as my own, however, I know that compared to the rest of her classmates that Jorrie is tiny. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why Jorrie understood me so well. Either way, it didn't matter to me. As long as I actually had her around everything was alright.

I walked through my front door, expecting calamity, but got confusion instead. Gayle and Ray were waiting on the couch with bags at both sides. The two of them were wearing matching blue and green outfits, hats, and jeans. I didn't know what was going on, all I know is that it was something that didn't concern me.

"Guess what Sugar Pie!" Gayle welcomed me with. "We're going on a little trip!" I stood in complete silence. Gayle just spoke to me as though I was her true daughter, and the way she did it, it sounded very awkward.

Ray jumped in along with Gayle's excitement. "Your Mother got a new job!" he said leaping off the couch. This wasn't really a surprise for me to hear. The real surprise is that we were actually celebrating because of it. "We have your clothes packed already! Now go and find anything else you want to take so we can get going right away!"

"Wait, wait!" I demanded. "Where are we even going?" I wanted to know where I was going before I actually wanted to go anywhere.

"We're going to Detroit!" Gayle shouted. My heart stopped and my pulse dropped to zero. No way. No way in heck. How could he go to Detroit? Why would we go to Detroit? I was so confused.

"Wait…what?" I asked. "We're in Florida, and Detroit is like –"

"1400 miles away?" Ray finished for me rhetorically. I nodded silently. Obviously we were going in about 5 minutes or less and I didn't have much say in it so I had to ask just one more question.

"Why Detroit?" I asked firmly, embracing myself for an answer that was most likely completely irrelevant.

"Because that's where my new job is, and our new home will be!" Gayle shrieked with a fiery squeal. "I got a job for a movie company there! We're going to be rich!" Gayle said even louder. "Go get ready! Hurry! Hurry!" She yelled while pushing me in my room to gather stuff I might want.

I glanced around my tiny room and new the two things I wanted to take already. My journal, and my stuffed rabbit. I always took my journal with me on trips, but the rabbit played more importance to me than the book. My Mom had given it to me and I always slept with it in memory of my parents. I refused to go on any over night trips without it.

With my possessions in hand, all _two_ of them, I set out for the car that Ray and Gayle were already in. The started it up and went flying away, down the road and to the freeway. I can't believe I was actually taking a random trip to Detroit. What I seriously didn't believe is that we were moving there. I just couldn't believe that and refused to believe that; I couldn't leave Jorrie behind.

I got to thinking about Jorrie more and more. I picked up my Journal, took out the pink pen in it and started writing in it.

_Fiesel's Journal_

_4-22-09_

_I can't pull myself together. All I can think about it how much Jorrie is better than me. I know she wouldn't want me to think that but it's way too hard not to. I don't know why but I feel like Jorrie really isn't my friend and she never has been. I feel like she's just one of the other kids who really don't like me. But she's just nice about it unlike the rest of them._

_She has everything. She's rich. She has good parents. And she's so nice too. Why can't I be like her? I sure wish I could. _

_I wonder what Jorrie really thinks about me I wonder what she says about me behind my back. I'm sure she says something. Everybody does some time or another. _

_Jorrie is just the perfect girl. She's good at everything she does and everybody loves her. She doesn't let people down and she treats everybody so well. I wish I could be a perfect girl like her._

_It would be great to have a perfect image, ac perfectly, and be a perfect girl. I guess I'll never know what that's like though. She's never let me down._

_I don't supp— _

My wrist stopped. The car had paused in motion and was stopped at a gas station along the highway. Gayle and Ray got out of the car and went inside urgently, probably using the restroom. I decided I might as well go inside too. Look for a snack or something. I walked into the surprisingly nice gas station. Everything was neat and well organized and very much unlike the other gas stations I had been in. I walked over to the candy aisle. Mindlessly I started browsing through the sweets, picking the ones I would ask for, finding the ones that looking bad. The aisle itself was massive, and thus it was very difficult to sort through all of my options. I finally put three in my hands and went to find Gayle to buy them. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even ask because I know she would just say "I don't have the money," but since she claims we'll be rich, I think she can afford to give my three dollars and fifty cents worth of sugar. I saw Gayle and Ray at the checkout stand and went to approach them.

That is where it happened.

Gayle and Ray, with some alcohol in their grasp, started laughing loudly and ran out the front door after handing the clerk a twenty and not even bothering to collect their change. I quickly dropped what I was holding and ran to the glass door. I peered out the window to see Ray starting the car and Gayle already taking a swig of her purchase. As quickly as they came, Ray and Gayle started driving off in the same direction. I ran outside and started shouting at them, desperate, but aware of the fact that they would never hear me. I turned around, looking towards town and saw a road sign that said how far town was from there. It was then that I realized how much of idiots those too were when I saw how far I away I _really_ was.

I couldn't believe what just happened. Gayle and Ray drove off with out me. Did they forget me? Did they to this intentionally? They had my journal, and they also had my stuffed bunny.

I sat in a corner away from the view of the single employee. I was just abandoned in gas station:

14 miles out of town.


	3. A Summer of Changes

**Finding Fiesel**

_A Summer of Change_

_-Fiesel-_

For such a tragically wonderful moment, I don't know why I was dressed so fancy. I was wearing clothes I had never seen before. It was very floral outfit, if anything. I took a deep breath in the lobby of this massive building. Everyone was waiting for me to come inside. This day was marvelous and yet slightly unbelievable. I wish I had seen it coming. I sat down on one of the stair steps, taking in my last thoughts before entering. I looked up at the arched ceiling. It was now that my life would change for good. It was now that my life would change for the better, at least which is what I was hoping. I pulled my stuffed bunny out of my side pocket, which was cleverly hidden, and held it tightly for a moment. I whispered to it quietly, "I think your going to like this!" I help it up to my ear. "No, or course not!" I said, as if answering it. "It might be a little hard to get through now, but this is for our better! Just like they said!" I told it. Such a dorky child I was, talking to a toy to calm myself. But at least it worked. I stood up and approached the heavy double doors. Using a little more strength than I expected to have to use, I pushed open the doors and began my triumphant strides down the red lane and past the empty benches.

The truth was this; I was in a court room, for pretty obvious reasons. I already knew what was going to happen so it seemed I had no reason to be here, but it was required that I attended. I paused my walking about half way down the red carpeted lane. I looked at Gayle, who was weeping, Ray, who seeming hot headed, and Duncan, someone already kind of special to me. I looked around at the empty room. It was kind of ironic it seemed; I had always pictured a court room filled wall to wall with people and photographers taking tons of pictures of every little movement in the room. This was not the case. The only ones in the room were Gayle, Ray, Judge Peterson, Duncan, and myself. I continued down again and took my seat between next to Gayle and Ray, on the right side of the room. I looked at Duncan, who was on the left. The couple starred at me, almost as if I was a complete stranger to them, which I might as well have been anymore. Judge Peterson stood up.

"Thank you for joining us, Miss Wilson," he said. I nodded silently. "Now, today we are here to finalize everything that was sentenced last weekend." Ray stood up in anger.

"You can't do this!" he protested. "It just doesn't work! I don't see how you could do this over one lousy mistake!" Ray pounded his fist into the wooden table in front of him. With a smile on my face, I stayed quiet, even though it was terribly hard.

"Sir, this is not your _first_ infraction in the fields of Fiesel's well-being." He pulled out a plain folder and opened it, revealing a couple of stacks of legal looking documents. "You've been charged before with Child abuse, disrupting a child's well-being, and endangering of a child all more than once. This was your final chance." Gayle started crying even more. Although I hated to see her cry, I couldn't help not feeling guilty. I had wanted this for more than just a little while now and felt as though she might've deserved this. I looked at Duncan, who seemed really focused on what was going on. Judge Peterson continued to talk in legal language I didn't understand and quickly lost my attention. I was more focused on the swirl pattern on the carpet of this room. I started to does off before the Judge finally got to his main point. He stood up again.

"Ray Rodriguez, Gayle Rodriguez, Fiesel Wilson, Duncan Ducinclaire" he listed off with haste, "please step forward. Simultaneously, we all stood up and approached the Judge in a single file line in front of him.

"Ray Rodriguez, Gayle Rodriguez, you have been charged with leaving Fiesel Wilson, your foster child, alone at a gas station outside of town for more than 4 hours on the 22nd of April. Is this or is this not true?"

Gayle leaned over the Judge's alcove. "We didn't mean to! It was just a mistake!"

"Is this or is this not true that you left Fiesel alone in that gas station, and drove over 170 miles away before recalling she was gone?" Peterson asked again.

Ray stepped up as well, "We had no idea! We thought she was still in the car, sleeping or something!"

"Answer the question, please. Is it true?"

Gayle and Ray looked at each other, accepting utter and almost instance defeat. Gayle nodded to Ray and put her arms on his shoulders, obviously ready to burst out in pity tears. "It is true," Ray said. The Judge nodded and slammed his gavel down to the desk.

"Then it is decided." Peterson said with his arms up. "Due to lack or proper foster parent protection and safety of the child in multiple occasions, you now have lost your foster parental privileges over Fiesel Wilson." My heart leapt, Gayle started crying, and Ray hung his head. "Fiesel will be transferred to a new foster parent, Duncan Ducinclaire, the mother's brother." I looked up and smiled at Duncan, who gave me a little wink. "Dismissed!" The judge yelled while hitting his gavel again. Ray and Gayle made no delay in leaving the room.

You see, I knew Duncan already. I liked him a lot and he liked me too. I'm not sure what he did in life, but he was obviously very successful and very wealthy. Not as wealthy as Jorrie McDowell, but still way above middle class, which Gayle and Ray couldn't dream of. He took my hands and lifted me on to his shoulders. Duncan had always treated me like a little sister, but now he had to treat me like a daughter, so I was really curious to see the changes my life was about to endure. He took my hands and lifted me off the ground and onto his shoulders. He approached Judge Peterson. "Thank you very much sir," he said graciously. "I promise that I will take excellent care of Fiesel." He announced. The judge nodded, smiled at me, and seemed pleased with what had just happened. Duncan carried me out to his car, a lavishingly shiny white car. A convertible too! He dropped me off in the front seat, which was alarming because I had never sat in the front before, but then he got in the driver's side and started the car. Before he took the car anywhere, he looked at me for a sec. "Fiesel, I know it might be a little hard to get used this new life style, but I want you to know something before you get any ideas." I was slightly confused. I trusted him like I had trusted him my whole life, but where was he going with this? "I travel every weekend on business trips and such, and they're trips that I can't exactly bring you with me on. I'm not always home for a long time like Gayle and Ray might've been." I nodded. There was nothing wrong with that. It's not like it was his fault. "I've already talked to one of my good friends; Izzy," he stuttered and corrected himself, "Isabella. She's promised to watch over you while I'm not around." I nodded again. "She's great and you'll get to love her really fast." I smiled.

"Thank you Duncan," I said as I tried to lean over and give him a hug. "I can't wait to meet her." He smiled and with a small wink, he pulled the stick shift and pulled out of the court. He drove down the road with the roof open, and we passed Gayle and Ray walking back home, knowing that they had lost me for good. Both were crying, which made me start to feel kind of bad because even though it wasn't the best ever, they still raised me for somewhere in-between seven and nine years. I tried not to think about it.

Duncan was a somewhat short man with light brown hair. This made me realize which side of the family my "petitness" comes from. He had a friendly smile and a heartfelt ring to his voice. I had known him sense I was just a toddler but I never dreamed of him becoming my foster father. I thought about my new name for a moment. "Fiesel Ducinclaire". It sounded awkward, but I wasn't about to complain.

It was about a month ago that I had been forgotten at the gas station and in between now and then school had ended and Jorrie was going on vacation to somewhere up in Canada. With school over, it was official that Jorrie would no longer go to my elementary school. However, maybe I could stand on my own two feet without holding Jorrie's hand now that I had Duncan with me. Maybe he could change my life around. I could already feel happiness coming by the year-load.

Duncan drove out of town and finally drove into to one of the small sub-divisions. It was called "Poshley Heights". It was about 10 miles out of town and still not too far away from Meadowlark Elementary School. I pulled up to a large white house. It was bigger than my old one, not the biggest one around here, but still significantly large. He got out and just lifted me out of the car with him. He clasped my hand tightly and escorted me into the doors of his house.

My pulse rate dropped by a lot. It was absolutely amazing. So amazing, large, and fancy, that I don't think I even need to bother describing it. A stair case in the middle of the entrance room when both up and down. Duncan pushed me a little forward to the stair case that went up and began to give me a tour of the house. I whipped out my bunny and gave it a little whisper, "I think this won't be too bad!"

_But nowing my great luck, I judged my new way of living a little too quickly. Things weren't as great as they were cut out to be. My journal tells it all._

_Fiesel's Journal_

_5-19-09_

_I am officially Duncan's daughter now, just like I thought I would end up. I do sort of feel bad for Ray and Gayle in a way though. Oh well. Not much I can do anymore._

_I'm sitting in my new bed in my new room. I love it so much. Duncan had it all decorated for me. It is like being a space! The walls are all painted with stars and planets, and the ceiling is loaded with constellations and more planets. It's amazing. I bet it will help me sleep tonight!_

_I can't wait to tell Jorrie the good news. I haven't seen her forever and she is supposed to get home soon. Duncan says he wants to do something with me tomorrow. I can't wait. I bet It will be a blast though I don't know what it is yet._

_Fiesel's Journal_

_5-20_

_Duncan took me around town today and I got to meet Izzy (Isabella). She took me shopping for a bunch of new clothes and stuff. Duncan was right, she is amazing! She's so nice and she even said I could be like a sister to her. After all, we have the same type and color of hair!!_

_Duncan also informed me that he would have to leave this weekend (tomorrow actually) and probably wouldn't be back for a few days, but Izzy would be there Babysittying me. I hate it when they say that she will babysit me, but I guess that's what she's doing. I just don't want to be treated like a baby, or feel like I'm being babysat. But whatever, it's not all that important. _

_Fiesel's Journal_

_5-30_

_Duncan finally got back from his trip and thank goodness. Izzy showed up every day for me, but quite often she just scrambled off with her friends and left me with a meal or two, and the house for me to raid. Too bad I had no one to play with, still. Jorrie still hasn't gotten back! I don't know where she could've gone to!_

_I've already gotten so bored this summer. With no parents around and no one else around in general, there's not a lot to do. I have plenty of entertainment in the house, but it's just not as fun when I know that no one will be around for a long time. _

_Also, Duncan has ANOTHER trip to go on. It will be the same routine. I'm guessing next weekend. Izzy will come for 5 minutes, leave me, and not come back until late at night when I'm already asleep._

_I hope Jorrie gets back soon. I miss her a lot._

_Fiesel's Journal_

_6-25-09_

_This officially sucks. I hate this summer. I haven't seen anybody in 4 days. Izzy stopped coming and Duncan won't answer his cell phone. I thought living with Duncan would be great, but I'm not really living with him. I'm just keeping his house from getting dusty. I guess I'm safe at least. Duncan says he has news about school next year, but he can't tell me until he gets back. _

_I hope this summer ends really soon. I'm bored out of my mind now. _

_Jorrie is finally home, but she got really sick on her trip and she doesn't want me around her catching anything. She said we'd get together as quickly as possible. I can't wait for it! Wait until she seems me! That is, if I'm not still like I was before. _

And so this is how my Summer continued. Never seeing anybody and just loafing around watching countless hours of television and messing around with Duncan's piano. I didn't know how to play, but it was still enjoyable to pretend I knew. Izzy popped her head in every once in a while to make sure I was still alive it seemed, because she never stayed more than five minutes. This was my summer and honestly it got no better. Before I could blink twice, Summer was already at its closing ceremonies. While all my classmates probably went on trips and had great vacations, I sat around and did nothing for almost 3 months. Wow, I'm active with Duncan.

At long last, Duncan finally came home and said he'd be home for 5 days. While this shouldn't be alarming, it really was because it was a first. The most prior to this was 3 days, and that only happened once. When Duncan walked through the front door in his brown suit, he said he had a surprise for me. My heart bounced up. He opened the front door and pointed out into his car. All I saw were tons and tons of bags. It didn't seem like much until he went to go fetch them out of the car. He carefully navigated his way back into the house and set them right on the floor in front of me. At my height, I actually had to perch up on my tippy-toes to clearly see what was in the huge bags overhead. I saw what was in it and jumped for joy! I don't know how he knew that I had always wanted this kind of stuff, but I didn't question him. In the bags, all 4 of them, there were brand new school supplied. Tons and loads of news trinkets, binders, art stuff, folders, and of course everything else that one needs to head back to the educational life. I finally stumbled upon something that I really liked. It stood out and I couldn't believe it. I picked up a large blue backpack. It had a green strip down it's side and it had pockets everywhere for all sorts of things. I had never had a real backpack before so this just really made my day. Yes, such a dork I am for getting so overwhelmed over what most kids my age would most likely dread. I absolutely loved the backpack though! I liked it so much I put it right on and didn't take it off for quite a while. I through my arms around Duncan and thanked him at least a billion times. "Duncan, why did you get me all of this?" I asked.

"Well I know that you never had this stuff. I remember you told me a long time ago when you were just in kindergarten how you wanted school stuff but could never get it. Well, here you go kiddo!" I almost had to start crying because what he did for me was so nice and so sweet. He would never understand how much this meant to me. With the backpack latched around my shoulders, I went upstairs to see how I looked.

I knew there was a mirror in Duncan's room. I quickly searched around upstairs until I found it and ran right up for the mirror. I stopped in front of it and turned sideways to inspect my newly obtained backpack. I liked how it looked on me, but then I noticed something about the reflection.

The girl in the mirror; there was nothing different about her. I was surprised. I assumed that living here would change everything about me, but I seemed the exact same. Small, thin, short, dark hair, dark eyes; nothing had changed. When I started thinking about it, I guess I don't know why I really thought it would. A new Dad wasn't going to change things like that. That's when it hit me! Duncan measured my height on the first day I went to live with him! I had checked my weight at that time too. It had been almost 3 months sense then and I had to see if I had grown!

"Duncan!" I shouted. "Duncan! You have to measure me!" I yelled knowing that he was clear across the house. At least the house echoed nicely and he heard me clearly.

"Come on down to the kitchen," He hollered back. There was a beam in the kitchen with pencil marks on it that he used for measuring his cousins and littler family members. I stood up next to the place where I had stood before.

"What was it last time?" I asked excitedly, hoping for new and bigger results.

"49 inches I believe," he said. Just past 4 foot, I was hopping for great outcomes.  
"Step away," he said, pulling me away from the wall. I turned around as he used a tape measurer to get the my height. "Hm, not bad." He said. I got really excited.

"What is it?" I demanded loudly.

"50 inches." He said calmly. "Not bad for just 2 or 3 months!" He smiled and started whistling a little tune to himself. That's it? I had grown a measly 1 inch? Still tiny. Now I had to weigh myself! I ran to the upstairs bathroom where I knew I could find scale.

When I got to it, I had to remember a little bit. Last time, it came out at 55 pounds. I took off my slippers and hopped on the scale. The numbers finally ended up at yet another disappointing figure; 57. I had grown barely at all over the summer. I walked back to Duncan's room to look at that mirror again.

I starred at the dark haired girl in the mirror almost like I would a stranger. Sure, I saw myself in a mirror everyday but it wasn't until now before I started to notice it. My smallness was getting on my nerves. I suppose there isn't much I can do about it though.

_Fiesel's Journal_

_7-30-09. _

_It's time for school tomorrow. I'm so scarred now. Something big happened with me and Duncan. He said it would be best for me if I go to a school where he knows the curriculum and he knows he staff. A place that he deems safe for me. Therefore, I've been moved to a private school in town. I'll now be going to "Elwinn private school" instead of Meadowlark. I guess it won't be so bad because he said that's where he went, but I can only fear that things change over the course of about 2 decades. _

_Jorrie has been over to my new house a lot lately, but recently, I haven't been able to call her. Don't know why either! _

_I'm so scarred for school to start. It's starting in the morning, and I feel like I might be shunned. I'm jumping in at 5__th__ grade. Most kids there have probably been there sense preschool. The grades are pre-K through 9__th__ grade. That mean I won't be with Jorrie for a long time in a long while. But maybe I'll mean another person like Jorrie! I guess I'll just have to wait and see._

_PS. This might be my last entry for a while. I'm out of pages now. I'll need to get a new one soon, but until I do, I'm putting this journal away._

_My Journal #4_

_December 27 2008, - July 30 2009_

It always felt weird finishing another Journal but by now I was used to the feeling of sealing away old memories and keeping them with me forever. I looked at what I had written and started to think about Jorrie. I was honestly starting to worry about her. I usually talk to her every day on the phone, but she hasn't been in for 3 days! Nobody has answered her phone which might not sound like much but is really a big deal for me. I'm worried about her. I hope nothing has happened to her, but if it has, I know it'll be okay..

I'm sure I'll hear from her sooner or later.

It was also hard to believe that Summer had gone and left just like that. It felt like just the other day I was in the court room being transferred to a new foster parent, but that was realistically over 2 months ago maybe. School was starting and I didn't know if I was ready for it to start or not. I laid in my bed all covered up, clasping on to the side of my bed in nervousness. What would everything be like at my new school? What are the kids like? So many questions and only I could be the one to answer them in the morning.

I turned to my other side, flipped my pillow, and looked at the pile of stuff in the corner of my room. There everything was ready for tomorrow. My new books, binders and backpack were all waiting for me right there in the morning. I held on tightly to my Bunny. I held it up to my lips and gingerly whispered "I'm scarred." I help it tightly to my chest, feeling as though maybe I was hurting it. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep. The quicker I feel asleep, the quicker the first day would be done.

Duncan stopped the car and put his arms around me. "Here we are! Elwinn!" he said enthusiastically. "I hope you have a great day and meet lots of new friends!" he said and gave me a hug. That was a little too positive for me right now. I was just going to try and blend in as best as I could. Duncan was obviously in a hurry because he sped off in his car as quickly as he came and I was left standing alone on the sidewalk of the school, facing the front doors and a large mass of peers and fellow students. This was a familiar setting to me. I though I would just dive in and see what would happen.

I worked my way into the kids and pushed my way calmly to the front doors of the school. I closed my eyes and perched my ears to listen for name-calling addressed to me. Nothing. No one had anything to say to me yet! No one was insulting me! And I wasn't hearing "Feeble Fiesel" anymore! This felt good! I wasn't going to get my hopes up about this place quite yet though. Although Duncan said it was a great place, I've learned by now that Duncan doesn't do his research. If it says it in a pamphlet, or even on a pop-up add, it must be true to him. That is just how he thinks.

I finally made it the front door and went to open it and check out my new school. The door wouldn't open. I pulled harder. It still wouldn't budge. A voice came over my shoulder.

"The doors don't open until 16 minutes past 8" some one said. I turned around and sitting on the ledge next to me was a boy that was obviously older than me. He sat relaxing on the stone ledge and it was clear he didn't want to be here. His shortish blond hair was combed forward and he had his backpack sitting on the ground next to him. He was holding glasses in his hands that I couldn't tell if he wore or not.

"Thank you," I said to him. I just slowly migrated to the corner near the door and waited for the doors to open. I didn't know him and I wasn't really interested in talking to him. He had another idea, however.

"I haven't seen you before, are you new here?" He asked while standing up off the ledge and putting his glasses on. I nodded without lifting my head or making any eye contact with him. "Are you going into," he stopped and examined me for a moment, which made me feel slightly awkward to be standing there, "Are you going into second or third grade?" he asked.

I let out a long and drawn out sigh. "Fifth,' I said to him. His eyes widened.

"Really?!" he asked in a very surprised tone. "sorry! You just seem to be quite, eh,--"

"Tiny?" I interrupted. "Yes, I am." I crossed my arms letting him know that I didn't want to talk about it. Standing there next to him felt weird, Almost as if he seemed familiar, but I didn't know from where. I tired to ignore the feeling that I wanted to talk to him more and continued to shun him. It was at that moment the bell rang and the doors to the school unlocked themselves. I let myself in and went straight to the office, which was conveniently right next to the entrance way. I asked where I should be going and I was quickly pointed in the right direction. I was to go to Ms. Forrester's class down the hall, up the stairs, and to the left." Following the directions that were assigned to me, I found the room in no time. Surprisingly, I was the first one to enter the room. The teacher greeted me with a very fake smile, which was actually kind of amusing, and asked for my name. "Are you Feesel?" she asked me giggly.

"Yes, Fiesel," I said while correcting her on the pronunciation of my name. It's not like it bugged me at all. After all, many people did it and I wasn't surprised. Within no time, the classroom was filled with students all my age. The fifth grade class was full and Ms. Forrester started to take attendance right away. She called out and checked off names of kids, many of which I'm guessing she already knew.

"Feesel?' she asked. I turned reddish when she called me that. As if my name wasn't uncommon enough, I just told her how to say it. "Is that right?' she asked me.

"It's F-eye-zel," I said, being very clear on the way I said it. The other kids just starred at me in a way which I was familiar with. I was already assuming that my name struck them as weird. It happened all the time.

"Caroline?"

"Here"

"Jordan?"

"Right here."

"Nessa?"

There was silence. Everybody looked around at each other looking for someone to claim the name of Nessa. "Nessarose Wilson?" she asked again saying the full name. Still there was no answer. "Looks like somebody is extending their vacation a little bit," she said with a giggle. She was obviously a very bubbly teacher.

When attendance was done, school really started.

I sat in the brightly colored room trading shy looks with the other students around her already we not paying attention to what the teacher had been saying. Most of the kids were boys, which I had noticed quickly. There were 13 boys and 8 girls all together, including Nessa who wasn't here.

The teacher just continued with the first day basics. Things I had heard many times before and most of which I were familiar with. I did find out quite a few things that applied to this school though that would probably be good to know.

One; The fifth graders are treated almost the same as the Kindergarteners it seemed like. K-6 shares the same lunch time, all the same recesses, go to assemblies together, and all have the same privileges. Realistically, the only big difference between the Kindergarteners and the sixth graders are that the sixth graders are older, and don't learn about shapes and colors.

Two: The boy next to me was filling me in on a few things about the social life of the school; It was very cliquey. If I didn't have "my group" already, it would be hard to settle in now. With a sigh of despair, I thanked him and hoped for the best.

Three: The same boy next to me, whose name is Peter, also told me that one of the kids in the class, Dawson, thinks he rules the place and would most likely be harassing the new students, Nessa and I, at every chance he got.

With this new info in mind, he teacher kept rambling on mindlessly about rules, policies, and all that other start-of-school, never-really-care junk that you always seem to get.

I found at that there are 3 Recesses in the day: In the morning, at lunch, and in the afternoon. The one in the morning was at 9:45 and was almost already that time. Finally when it really arrived, a bell rang and the kids hustled outside. I followed slowly behind everybody. I was expecting for Dawson and approach me at this time and so I embraced myself for a verbal argument. How sad; a verbal argument on the first day of school.

I slowly pitter-pattered down the sidewalk and passed many of the classrooms on the way. I looked into the window to see the difference in classroom style as the grades went up and down. Upperclassmen seemed to sophisticated and underclassmen appeared to be so child-like and immature. "Hey you!" a voice called from behind me. "How do you like it here," the male voice asked very sarcastically. I turned around. It was Dawson from class. Peter power walked in my direction.

"Told ya so," he said softly under his breath as he walked right past me and continued to the playground across the field.

"Just want you to know, Feesel," He already made me angry before his first sentence was done. He knew how my name was pronounced. I didn't want anything to do with him. It seemed maybe all he could bring me was misfortune. "This is my ground. You do what I tell you to," he put his foot down as if a king, sultan, or other exulted Shaw.

"I don't think so," I said to him retaliating. He raised his right eyes brow. It was no joke that he was bigger than me, because obviously everyone was. He seemed surprised that someone like me just said what I did.

"People have listened to me sense second grade, and you aren't going to change that!" He said getting closer to me, getting ready to do something I imagine.

"And if I do?" I asked him sarcastically. That is when I must've already made him really hate me. He came up to me, grabbed my collar, and pulled it up. It didn't lift me off the ground, but it felt as though it might tear. He turned around so I was facing the building and he was facing the field. "Never question me, Feesel," he said right in my face, spitting at me a little bit, and let go of my collar. I fixed my collar, rubbed my neck because it really did hurt a little bit, and whipped the spit off of my face. I looked around at everyone. About 6 kids were looking at me, all kids from my class, and all of them wide eyed. One of them came up right to me and got close enough to whisper. She didn't seem happy.

"He isn't afraid to hurt you and get in trouble, Fiesel." She said. Earn yourself a good name for yourself now and just do as he says for the most part and he'll leave you alone." She seemed tense, and honestly to me, this was all a bunch of crud. I wasn't going to go out of my way to please some kid who thinks he's better than everybody else. This school was already too dramatic for me. It seemed like something I would see on TV. I found it kind of pathetic honestly.

I continued looking around until I saw a slightly familiar face in the window of one of the sixth grade rooms. It was that same blondy boy from earlier, outside of the front doors. He was wearing those glasses now too. It was the same kid; that one dorky looking boy. He was watching me from the window and just had a smile on his face. I couldn't help but to smile back at him. He was looking at me as if trying to say "good job". He started writing something on a piece of paper. He held it up to the window of the classroom for me to see. It said "impressive" on it. I guess he was referring to my reaction to Dawson. I gave the boy a thumbs up sign and could then see him laughing on the other side of the glass.

Peter was now standing next to me. "Wow," he said. "I didn't expect you to do that to Dawson! He will probably hate you now!" He informed me. I shrugged, informing him that I honestly didn't care. "You know," he started, "Dawson has a ton of friends in more than just the fifth grade. He can say bad things about you, you know".

"I seriously don't care. My guess is that I won't be here long anyway," I told him back. Peter stepped back and quieted down. I was still looking at the boy the classroom. Oddly enough, he hadn't moved his eyes either. It felt like we were trying to talk, but just couldn't do it.

"Peter?" I asked. He stepped forward. "See that boy in the window?" I asked while finally breaking eye contact with him to look at Peter.

"Yes, what about him?" he seemed very confused and unaware of my point.

He tried to ask, but tripped on my words as they formed in my head. I finally just spat it out. "What's his name?" I asked him calmly while looking back at him, even though he was now focused on something inside.

"Bridger,' Peter answered me, "Fiador".

I stopped to think for a second. I thanked Peter and he ran off to go play or do whatever, it didn't matter to me. I turned away from the building and put my head up high.

"Bridger Fiador," I repeated to myself. "He sounds…nice".


	4. Not a Little Girl

**Finding Fiesel**

_Not a Little Girl_

_-Bridger-_

I held up the piece of paper for her to see out the window. I had written "impressive" on it. She deserved it though; she just did what most of her classmates fear of doing, and that is standing up to Dawson. I wish I could congratulate her face-to-face, but I'm stuck in this stupid classroom reading because I didn't do it over summer break. Although what she did as bold, I know now that she has set a not-so-great name and reputation for herself already. Dawson has a lot of friends in a lot of grades and can get rumors started easily, which is exactly why people are nice to him. I looked back at her and she just starred at me for a while. It was honestly kind of creepy, but then I realized I was staring back too. Peter ran up to her and she said something to him while pointing at me. It was now that I looked back at what I was doing, trying to avoid eye-contact with her.

What was her name? I simply couldn't remember her name! I know I had heard it before, or did I?

I took off my glasses and tried to clean them with my sleeve. These glasses were only reading glasses and I could see things fine without them, but I constantly found myself wearing them most of the time, even when I wasn't reading anything. Just a habit.

The bell rang and more kids starting pouring through the door again. I turned to the window I was sitting next to and obviously the girl had already fled for class. I decided it would be best to try and find her at lunch and ask questions then. After all, that was the only time I would see her today; I had to read during all the recesses as punishment for not doing my homework which I had nearly 3 months to do.

When class started, we continued going over class procedures and such. I dozed off dreaming of summer vacation already. I know and accepted the fact that I don't like school. I don't like the kids there, I don't like the work, and I don't like the whole aspect of school in general. Maybe it wasn't that I disliked school, but maybe that I was just tired of Elwinn. It truly does get old quickly. I waited and waited until lunch. My teacher, Mr. Clark, just talked and talked and I already disliked his monotone voice and figured out that this year is going to suck with this teacher,

Time passed incredibly slowly in that class. I watched every tick of the clock until it was at last 11:45: Lunch time.

As fast as I could go without getting in trouble, I made my way down the hallway to the third, fourth, and fifth grade area. I stood outside all 3 of the fifth grade classrooms waiting for the younger kids to start coming out.

Mrs. Bloomgrin's class started going to lunch when Mrs. Bloomgrin opened the door. I waved to my old fifth grade teacher. Mr. Doolin's class came out and I started to get impatient even though it had only been about 15 seconds. After I started to think about it, I wasn't even sure why exactly I was waiting for this dark-haired girl. I suppose I just wanted to ask her about recess. Mrs. Forrester finally opened her class door and the fifth graders started rushing to get the cafeteria faster than the person next to them. At a glance, I didn't see her anywhere. I peeked into the classroom and finally found her sitting at a desk, putting her stuff away before heading to eat. I hid myself behind a wall outside of the room and waited for her to come out. When she did, I slowly tip-toed up behind her and poked her fiercely on both of her sides.

She let out a loud squeal and she leaped into the air, flinging herself around to see me. "Hi." I said, realizing that she was not at all amused by what I did.

"Hello," she said, as she gave me a very brief smile and proceeded past me and followed the other kids. I walked along side her, hoping that she wouldn't think I was too weird. She stopped in place and looked at me. "Can I help you?" she asked demandingly. I shook my head.

"Nah," I said trying to be calm. "But why did you do that at recess?" I asked her. Not the best way to break the ice, but it was a start.

"What? Not letting Dawson get to me?" she inquired. I nodded as she shrugged her shoulders. "I know how to get around people like that. I'm honestly glad he just didn't to anything," she stated while slightly blushing. She made her way into the lunch line, myself following right behind her. It seemed as though she attempting to lose me, but I wanted to try and talk to her.

"So are you from around here?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"I've lived here my whole life. My dad, my foster dad, moved me here for this year." She informed me. It was then that she sounded remotely interested in talking to me.

"Foster?" I asked without thinking. That was something I really regretted asking because I know how rude that type of thing would be to ask. I don't know why I said it though. I know very well what "foster" means, but I wanted to know about what she had to say. She glared at me with shielded and disappointing eyes. "Sorry." I said. She simply shook her head, informing me that she didn't care. With her lunch tray in hand, she found an empty part of the room where nobody was and sat down. I felt terrible that she sat alone. I walked over to her with my lunch in hand. "Mind if I sit here with you?" I asked while trying not to seem cheesy.

She looked at me with hopeful and happy eyes now. "Sure." She said with a small smile. She looked at me again, just like she had looked at me when she was outside and I was in the room. This was the sweetest look I had ever seen and just simply couldn't look away. With just a few teeth showing, her hair framing her smile, and her dark eyes gleaming up at me, I simply just couldn't look away.

I decided to try and talk to her again. "So you've always lived here? Where do you live?" I asked.

Asking that was a either a huge mistake or a really good way to get her talking. It was at that moment she took the wheel of the conversation and wouldn't let go. She told me where she lived, and with who. But she didn't stop at that. She kept going and kept going. She didn't even take the time to eat because she was so focused on what she was saying.

Within no more than 10 minutes, I had already learned where she lived, who she lived with, why Duncan was her foster dad, her friend Jorrie, how she lost her old foster parents, and a bit about her real parents, and most importantly; Her name. This was all before trouble arrived.

"My Dad was trying to work his way into New York for acting and singing when finally he-" she was caught off by a boy behind here.

"New York! I love New York!" Dawson said with a unlimited amount of sarcasm while pushing Fiesel aside and sitting across from me. "Bridger?' he asked. "Why are you sitting with her?" He asked while focusing his vision on Fiesel. Fiesel looked down at her shoes, probably getting the impression that I didn't really want to be here. Dawson pointed at a table a little ways away. "Jordan and Kelly are wondering where you are, and I know you wouldn't want to make your _best _and_ closest_ friends angry, would you?" He geared hat remark at Fiesel obviously, and it appeared it was as through he was trying to get me to leave.

"Well I'm sitting with Fiesel," I stated tying to get him to just leave. She kept her eyes down still, only listening to us. With Fiesel slightly out of the way, Dawson started fiddling with the water that was resting on her tray. Moving it from side to side, back and forth, apparently just messing around. "Whatever," he finally said. He then thumbed Fiesel chin, making her look up at him. It could see her shiny eyes praying that he wouldn't try and do anything.

"You know Feesel," he said, "I think I was wrong about you. I'm starting to think that maybe you and I might become buds!" Dawson sounded believable, but I couldn't believe it and could only hope that neither could she. "What do you say you come play basketball with me and my friends at recess?" he asked while holding out his hand. Fiesel rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

"Yeah, sure." She said in a very unenthusiastic way. She held out her hand to shake his when all too soon, she jumped up out of her seat with a gasp. I could then see that Dawson's hand was covered in his own spit, and Fiesel's hand was dripping with it. Fiesel leapt in the air, swung her hand around, and made direct contact with her slightly opened water that Dawson had so accurately placed. It drenched the table, the seats, and especially Fiesel. Breaking out into laughter, Dawson left the table and Fiesel sat there in dripping clothes. I ran and got as many napkins as I could to give to her.

"I'm sorry about that," I said while pushing my water forward to give to her.

She pushed it back, rejecting it. "It's not your fault," she said with a sigh. There was one thing I didn't understand though and I was just dying to ask it. I finally let it out.

"If you stood up to Dawson earlier, what happened now?" I asked bluntly and hoped I didn't offend Fiesel.

"I don't know.' She answered. "Change of view, I guess." I shrugged and sighed. That really didn't answer my question. "Like I said before," she actually continued, "This new school isn't what my dad told me it was cut-out to be. I'm already being shunned in my class for whatever reasons." She looked away from me and I moved to get back in her line of sight. "When I stood up to him this morning, I was confident about this place. I assumed I would be better off here, and I thought I would make a lot of friends in no time. Between then and now, things changed. Nobody in my class will already talk to me. They all have their silly little groups that I'm naturally rejected from." She almost started to tear up. Was her first half day really that cruel to her already? Or was she still just vulnerable from knowing she had been grown up with her old parents she told me about. "I don't think fitting in and making friends will be easy, just like at my old school." I smiled at her, trying to soften her sniffling.

"But you've already made a friend!" I said, realizing how corny, yet kind of necessary that was to say. She looked at me and smiled really big, drying out her eyes. "And don't worry! I know everybody will come around to like you!" I said with the biggest smile I could make. She giggled a bit and blinked away the rest of her tears.

She gave me "that look" again and whimpered out "thanks." She looked away from me. We both threw out trays away and while I did, I passed my two friends Jordan and Kelly, who Dawson had pointed out. I explained to them what I was doing, after they not-so-calmly asked. They didn't seem to care though. Only Kelly seemed to find it odd that I, a sixth grader, would rather be sitting and talking to a fifth grader. I don't think it's totally unheard of, but this school is really grade cliquey, so it did stand out a bit.

Fiesel followed me out the doors to recess while we continued the small talk. Now she seemed focused on a girl named Jorrie. As she spoke of her, her smile was fake. She seemed to envy her; just by the way she talked. More than anything she continued to stress how Jorrie still doesn't know about her new dad and she hasn't seen her almost all summer.

While outside, I showed her around the obvious-to-discover playground. I rarely played on it anymore, but she seemed eager to go play, although she didn't. He just walked down the sidewalk path, and kept talking. I liked what she had to say. I tried to avoid eye-contact with her because I knew I would just start staring again. I cleaned my glasses with my sleeve, and then out of no where I heard Fiesel shriek in mid-sentence. I quickly put them on in time to see Dawson (go figure) with a fist-full of gravel, pouring it down the back of Fiesel shirt. With arms in the air, she get to him. "Stop it!" She yelled.

He let go of her shirt and she turned around to confront him. She got up to him and grabbed his shirt. "Why the heck do you have to keep pestering me all day long?!" she yelled, loud enough to attract a _lot _of attention. "All I did was-" It was right then that Dawson did the most despicable thing he could do at that moment. He lunged forward, and pushed Fiesel do the ground: on her back.

The gravel and dirt he had just put down the back of her shirt grinded and cut along Fiesel's back. On the ground, she let out a scream in pain. While many of the kids laughed uncontrollably, some quickly came to her aid, obviously including myself. A fourth grade girl quickly helped her up while a fifth grade girl lift the back-end of her shirt to see if she was okay. Blood dripped down her back. Not loads of it, but a lot more than an average cut or two. She snow-white shirt was stained for good, and she as in pain. Dawson looked around franticly to see if any adults saw that, which they didn't.

Me and the two other girls quickly rushed her inside to the school nurse, with three or four other random kids following in case she needed help. Once we got the nurse, she shut the door to tend to Fiesel alone.

It was then I noticed something about Fiesel, while I saw our principal escorting Dawson into his office. Fiesel never seemed to be in any real pain just now. I know if that had happened to me, I would've been wheezing in pain. She gave a single whelp when it first happened, but that was it.

She didn't scream. She didn't yell. She didn't cry or fuss. And she never once mentioned that it hurt.

Wow. She tried to stand up to Dawson again and got extremely injured doing it, but never once complained about anything? _Anything?_

I suppose she really isn't what I thought her out to be at first sight: I guess she's not just a little girl.


End file.
